The Stuff of Children's Rhymes
by Mary B. Wolf
Summary: Looking back much, much later, Sakura would realize that it was her boots' fault that all this happened. KakaSaku
1. one two buckle my shoe, or part I

A few months ago on the kakasaku LJ community, nari-lightning posted a story idea she had but couldn't write, due to circumstances not allowing her the time (and her ridiculous belief in her lack of talent). I, along with a few others, asked to use this idea. It's been...well, months, and I haven't forgotten. I just got stuck a few times. And then there's the issue of I once swore I'd never post smut. And this contains smut. Never say never, right? And slight AU in that Jiraiya isn't dead. Because I refuse to believe it. I wrestled with myself about posting this to FF, but it's been up at the comm for about a week. Enjoy!

* * *

_one two buckle my shoe_

* * *

Looking back much, much later, Sakura would realize that it was her boots' fault that all this happened.

(And Ino's, but Ino was always the scapegoat when things went wrong (or so utterly right that she couldn't help waiting for it to come crashing down 'round her ears, and _then_ it would be wrong) in her life. So Ino was pretty good at brushing it off.

(The boots, however, did not get off so lightly. They were suitably abused afterward.)

It was September 28. The air was crisp and cold—that winter came early and left late, like an annoying relative—and the streets were littered with brown leaves.

Sakura had indulged in a favorite childhood game on her way home from the graveyard shift that morning—Leaf Crunching. They always made the best noise when they were stepped on. She'd smiled and laughed like an idiot all the way to her apartment block.

And then nearly cried when she saw Ino in her closet like a poacher.

"Where are your party clothes, Forehead?" she demanded the moment the door clicked closed.

"At your apartment, Pig," Sakura spat back. "Every time I buy myself something cute, you borrow it, and I never see it again until some guy's pawing at it, trying to get at your boobs."

Ino harrumphed indignantly but gave no other indication that her friend had said anything. She continued picking through the sensible blouses and modest skirts, looking as though she were exposing herself to some horrible disease.

Meanwhile, Sakura had set herself up for tea and taken care of bathroom business. She was drying her hands on the towel when Ino let out an ear-splittingly delighted shriek.

"When did you get these?" Ino rushed her as she pulled the door to her bathroom open, clutching a pair of black boots.

They were fairly simple; black leather with a modest heel that had a single buckle on the outside at the top to hold them closed just below the knee.

"I don't remember," Sakura lied, straight-faced. She remembered perfectly well where they'd come from, but some things were better off unknown to Konoha's reigning Gossip Queen.

(They'd been a gift from Jiraiya, of all people, when she'd passed the jonin exams, and his (admittedly weak) explanation had been, "I taught Minato, who taught Kakashi, who taught you, so take a little gift from your great-grand-sensei." It had been bizarre, but Tsunade had hosted an impromptu party in her office, other people had also given her small somethings, and Sakura hadn't sensed anything wrong with the boots.

(Of course, using Jiraiya's logic and counting Naruto as a brother, or Tsunade as a mother, Jiraiya was also her uncle, but Jiraiya's logic usually gave her a headache (and the heebie-jeebies), so she tended not to think about it too much.)

Ino's increasingly high-pitched babbling broke into Sakura's daze.

"—got to wear these fabulous boots, Forehead!"

"Wear them where? On my couch?" She snorted. "Not going anywhere today."

"Then how about tonight? That's what I was talking about anyway," Ino sneered. "Jeez, Forehead, pay attention." She rolled her ocean eyes. "_And_, before you get your panties in a wad, consider this me cashing in that little Yuki favor, hmm?"

Sakura scowled fiercely. "Fine," she gritted out. "What time do I need to be ready?"

"Eight," Ino replied promptly. "I'll bring the wardrobe—" she glanced sourly at the bedroom where Sakura could see her clothing scattered across the entire room—"because yours is _sorely_ lacking."

The blonde let herself out while Sakura trudged to her bed to assess the damage. Only a handful of shirts and skirts. Light, this time. Overcome by exhaustion, she just shoved it off her bed and flopped onto her pillows and wiggled into her favorite position.

She woke at seven-oh-three and dashed for the shower to begin her primping, tripping over clothes on the way. When she stepped out of her steamy bathroom wrapped in a towel, her hair dripping water onto her bare shoulders, she came face-to-face with a highly amused-looking, glammed-up Ino, holding a garment bag in one hand and a large makeup case in the other.

"Oh, Forehead," she sighed. "We have _so_ much work to do."

Her friend ushered her into the bedroom and set the case down on the bathroom sink with a definitive, ominous _clunk!_ sound, a wicked look in her eye.

"So very much."

She had gained ten pounds in makeup, she knew. She had to have.

But she did look _damn_ good, if she did say so herself (and Ino certainly did, too). Ino had decided against curls right away, stating that Sakura's hair was too fine to hold a curl without a dozen cans of hairspray, so she had used a sticky substance to spike it up and out. Ino had done her eyes in smoky grey and black, with a heavy hand on the eyeliner, painted her lips brilliantly red and left her cheeks pale.

She had then been shoved into a halter top the same color as her lipstick, thigh-high fishnets, and a red-and-black plaid pleated miniskirt.

Ino had stuffed herself into a midnight blue bustier with off-center buckles in a row running top to bottom and a black miniskirt. She wore stiletto ankle boots and a kunai-shaped pendant on an iron chain around her neck.

Ino pronounced them fit for partying and tossed the boots at Sakura.

"Don't forget these."

"Of course not," Sakura muttered.

Ino smiled gently. "You look good, Forehead."

"You, too, Pig," Sakura answered.

"Of course I do," the blonde said smugly.

Instead of rising to the bait like her friend undoubtedly expected, she just laughed, linked arms, and dragged her to the door. Ino led her to the entertainment district, to a new kind of establishment to Konoha, something called a dance club.

They were extremely popular in larger civilian cities, and the shinobi, particularly the younger ones, were enjoying them now that they had been introduced to the Hidden Villages.

The ninja alliance had hung on for a bit after the war; ideas and other things had also been exchanged. The dance club—and the music it played—was one of those things. It had also been one of the few things Yamato had refused to build, although, out of gratitude and respect for all the other work he'd done in and for the village, both during battle and especially during the reconstruction, he got in and drank for free.

The line outside the building was long and moved slowly enough for Ino and Sakura to get bored and snappish.

"Why are we even going out?" Sakura asked.

"Have you lost track of the date, Forehead?" Ino exclaimed. "It's your half-birthday, silly!"

There was another long silence.

"Is this place even worth this kind of wait?" Sakura demanded, outraged.

"Yes," Ino said shortly, chafing her arms against the chill of the crisp early fall night.

Sakura grumbled mutinously, "It better be."

They said nothing more until they had gotten through the door.

"Well?" Ino asked.

Sakura, who was quite impressed but refused to give Ino the satisfaction of showing it, only grunted appreciation. She headed straight for the bar, and grimaced when she placed an order for beer. The bartender noticed.

"Beer not your favorite?" she asked, her voice light and pleasant.

"Ugh, no," Sakura moaned. "But it's beer, sake, or shochu, and I'd rather not wake up tomorrow with a hangover the size of the continent."

The woman laughed, short brown curls bouncing on her forehead. "Oh, sweetie, no," she said. "This place is no ordinary bar. We have any kind of alcohol you could want." Her copper eyes twinkled in a tan face.

"I've never had anything else," Sakura admitted uncertainly.

"She'll have a tequila sunrise." Ino had found her, and before she could protest, she was informed that "It tastes like orange juice. You'll like it." Ino flashed a bright grin at the bartender. "I will take a cherry vodka sour, please, and a margarita, Shinju."

Shinju, as the woman was apparently known, smiled back at Ino, and left to mix their drinks. Ino turned to Sakura, who raised her brows.

"What?" Ino said defensively. "I come here a lot. It's a fun place. Shinju is the owner's daughter, it pays to be on good terms with her." Ino looked at Shinju on the far end of the bar, dipping a glass into a powder, a lime wedge next to her. Her smile turned wistful. "She's a civilian, trained in Suna by a cousin to make drinks and run this place. She's new in town."

Sakura said nothing, and soon the woman was back, passing them their drinks. They paid and Ino tipped her generously, swallowed the cherry vodka sour in one gulp and carried her other drink to a table.

Ino would spend equal parts of the night on the dance floor—which Sakura enjoyed greatly—and at the bar, talking with Shinju.

Sakura sampled several drinks that night, including tequila shooters, something Ino called a "slippery nipple" and something Shinju gave her and said was "sex on the beach." The more she drank, the more she danced and the less she cared how stupid she looked.

Eventually the club closed, and Sakura got thrown out. Ino, however, had volunteered to help clean up and close, because one of the waitresses had quit at some point in the night. Shinju had smiled warmly and accepted, taking Ino's hand to show her where the cleaning supplies were kept. Her last glimpse of her friend before being tossed on the street was of a faintly pink-cheeked Ino stepping around the bar and closer to the other woman uncertainly.

Sakura smiled faintly. Ino was always aggressive when she went after a guy, and was hardly shy in any other case. Shinju, a civilian woman, was making Ino act completely out of character. She wished them luck silently and began to traipse home. She was two blocks away and the buckle on her boot was starting to dig into her leg. She stopped and stooped to fix it.

Sakura could never quite figure out how it happened, but somehow, between her fingers releasing the buckle after satisfactorily adjusting it and beginning to stand, she somehow ended up in an alley, pinned between a rough brick wall and her captain.

And she could never quite figure out why what happened next happened at all, either. Maybe it was because of the alcohol flowing through her veins, or maybe it was because Kakashi's erection was poking into her stomach and turning her on, but he was close enough to her that she could feel his breath on her cheek and lips, and she turned her head to align their faces and then they were kissing.

It was wild and frantic and she was afraid he would eat her alive and her lip would bleed for a while where he'd bitten it hard enough to break the skin but he tasted like solidarity, mint and beer when his tongue entered her mouth. She sucked on it. His hips jerked against her and his hands wandered across her breasts, flicking delicately at her nipples and down to her hips.

Kakashi lifted her up and Sakura spread her legs to wrap around his narrow waist where she felt the head of his cock pressing against her.

She gasped and flexed her hips. Kakashi pushed into her and lifted his mouth away from hers. He moved in close to keep her from falling; his hands were suddenly up her skirt and her panties were being pulled away.

Sakura untangled one leg clumsily and let the underwear dangle from her ankle. Kakashi shoved his pants down and then Sakura could feel his body begin to invade hers. It stung as he slid into her, because she hadn't been ready for this intrusion just yet.

He reached between them and slid a finger over her clit, returning his mouth to hers.

Sakura melted under his touch. Soon he was moving easily, keeping time with her soft moans, she thought, as she clenched around him.

She could feel orgasm creeping up on her bit by bit and was still surprised somehow when it crashed into her like a tidal wave, roaring from where they met up through her from her head down to her toes and shooting sparks through her lips and nipples.

There was warmth pouring from Kakashi into the place between her legs that was still tender and sensitive to the touch. He stilled and held her tightly for a moment before his now-soft organ slipped from her and was quickly hidden away when Kakashi pulled his pants up from around his ankles and fastened them.

Draping himself over her, he leaned in and nuzzled her neck and kissed under her jaw. Bewildered, Sakura fixed her panties and left the alley. Kakashi followed her. When he caught up to her, he dropped an arm casually across her shoulders, walked with her to her apartment and invited himself up for tea.

He stayed the night. There was no sleeping, and he made her breakfast the next morning.


	2. the next morning, or interlude i

I don't own _Naruto_, and, quite frankly, at this point I'm glad I don't, because I have been ignoring significant chunks of canon and inventing my own (or enjoying the invented-canon of others).

Just a quick little interlude to tide you over and answer a few questions or address a few issues a few of you may have brought up. Enjoy.

* * *

It was her boots.

Well, no, he mused wryly, it was all of her, but the boots had been the breaking point. She was gorgeous, and willing, after he'd pulled her into that alley, anyway, and nubile—

He flipped the eggs around, trying to redirect the blood flow away from his groin.

Sakura was sure to enjoy that—"Here you are, eggs hard, and would you look at that, so am I."

He snorted. Right.

After plating the food and turning off the burner, Kakashi puttered around the kitchen for a few moments before returning to Sakura's bedroom.

He eyed the clothing on the floor with some measure of distaste. There was a cut on his lip where Sakura had bit him hard enough to draw blood because she'd tripped over it on their way to the bed last night. He kicked it aside now and sat down.

Sakura's green eyes stared up at him, a bit glazed.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "About the mess. I'm usually much neater than this, but Ino went through my closet and I was tired and then it was too late to clean up…"

"It's fine," Kakashi assured. He held out the food and set it on her lap when she'd sat up. Her white sheet was thin, the air in the apartment was chilly, and Kakashi was treated to a lovely view of Sakura's nipples. His blood thrummed happily southward.

"Mmm, thank you," Sakura said. "I'm so hungry. I barely ate yesterday."

"I'm sure the sex didn't help either,' Kakashi chuckled.

Sakura's face turned beet red and she began to make the most peculiar little choking sound. It would have been endearing if the embarrassment hadn't been quickly turning to rage directed at him.

He tensed, wondering if maybe he should flee for his life right now, because this was usually when the top flew off and sorrier saps than him lost their heads. There wasn't anyone with quite the same flair as Sakura for avoiding conversations.

But no, the color was fading and her breathing was returning to normal. She was still pink, though, when she asked, "Last night really happened?" a little incredulously.

"Yep," Kakashi said cheerily. "I was drunk, you were drunk, we're both hot, and it was good." He glanced at her worriedly. "It was good, right?"

She nodded.

"Good," he sighed. "I understand if this is a one-time deal."

She looked at him oddly but he pretended not to notice, and after a moment's thought, she agreed.

"It was a reckless, stupid decision," Sakura said. "And it shouldn't be made again." She frowned. "How was it made in the first place?"

"Drunkenly. You were bent over, playing with your boot…it was a wonderful idea at the time."

"Hm." Sakura lapsed into quiet, poking at the food on her plate. "Thank you. For breakfast."

Kakashi smiled. "Sure." He picked up his clothes, put them on, and began to leave. He was down the hall, almost to the door, when he heard:

"Mission briefing at two, don't forget!"

"I won't," he called back. And then he was gone.


	3. three four shut the door, or part II

This had only a brief proofreading done by me, but I'm actually pretty happy with this one. Comments and constructive criticisms are always appreciated! Enjoy, and happy Hallowe'en.

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_three four shut the door_

It was Tuesday, and Ino was late. Of course, Shinju probably had a lot to do with that, and Sakura couldn't begrudge that sweet-tempered barkeep anything for long. Especially since Ino had only just come back the night before, and they certainly missed each other.

So until Ino arrived, Sakura would continue to muddle through her paperwork and nibble on the crackers she'd brought with her that morning in anticipation of this very scenario.

It was nearing two o'clock and she was beginning to despair of ever seeing Ino. Sakura patted her grumbling belly and said, "I know. Soon."

She was reaching for another folder when a knock came at her window. She turned warily. Ino didn't use the window.

It was Kakashi.

"Of course," she told herself. "If he didn't annoy me at every opportunity, the world just might implode." She stared at him for a moment against the backdrop of a grey January day. He tapped the tips of his fingers against the glass, and when she kept on not moving, she got the puppy-dog eye. She could practically _see_ the 'let me in' on his visible breath.

Sakura actually did feel a little bad. It snowed only on occasion in Konoha, if the conditions were right, as they hadn't been in four years – since she was seventeen.

She smiled fondly at the memories of that winter, but they weren't without wistfulness as she unlocked the window and swung it wide to grant Kakashi admittance. He stepped in and began to walk away from the still-open window.

"Ahem," Sakura said pointedly.

"Lunch?" Kakashi asked cheekily.

She briefly considered telling him she was waiting for Ino, but a quick glance at the clock and the sharp pang in her empty, growling stomach instantly rearranged her priorities.

"I'm picking the place this time," she declared. "Last hovel you chose had me puking for days."

Sakura headed toward the door to gather her coat and scarf, which she draped over her arm, intending to bundle as they went down the stairs. She heard Kakashi's footsteps going to the window. Hand on the door, she turned to him.

"And just where do you think you're going?" she inquired.

"To lunch," Kakashi answered innocently. A cold wind swept through, depositing snowflakes in his hair and on her floor. Sakura was unmoved. "Come on, Sakura, live a little," he coaxed.

But she really wanted to soak up the warmth on the stairs before facing blustery winds and snow…

"But I really wanted to soak up the warmth on the stairs before facing blustery winds and snow…"

"It's already freezing in here—"

"Totally your fault."

"—so just put on your coat and let's go."

She pouted briefly at the door before shrugging on her coat over her scarf and trudging to the window.

"Damn you for making sense," she grumbled.

Kakashi was already clinging to the side of the building when she threw her leg over the sill and climbed out. She half-heartedly kicked at his head before she closed the window. They scaled down to the street and Sakura set out for her new favorite place.

Her boots made crunching noises in the snow as she walked. Kakashi was silent beside her. He had his arm around her shoulders, as he always did these days. It was a habit he'd picked up a little over four years ago, when she was seventeen and they'd slept together for the first time.

It was as close as either of them got to acknowledging the sex, outside of the actual act. They never talked about it, it didn't carry over into any other aspect of their relationship, and Sakura was fine with that. She knew what was coming after lunch and wondered how far they'd make it before their clothes came off.

"I only have an hour for lunch, you know," she announced.

"We'll be fine," Kakashi said absently.

Sakura really hoped he wasn't planning to jump her bones in an alley. It was one of his favorite places, apparently, and the novelty of semi-public sex had long since worn away. Besides, she'd rather not freeze her ass off so he could get off.

Desk sex, though… Sakura happily wandered into daydreams at the prospect, relying on her feet to carry her where they needed to go.

The door chimed when Kakashi pushed it open, calling her from a pleasantly vivid scenario. She paused, jolting slightly when Kakashi didn't. He glanced back at her.

She knew her face had to be rosy – she could feel the warmth in her cheeks. His brow furrowed. "Sakura, you're looking glazed," he commented.

"There was a desk," she said faintly. Sakura imagined a confused frown under his mask, then shook her head to clear it. "Never mind. Let's go, I'm famished."

His eye softened. "Lead the way."

Sakura set a brisk walk to the dining room and slid into a corner booth. A younger woman approached, wearing a plastic smile and carrying menus. She laid them on the table and drew chopsticks and spoons wrapped in paper napkins from her apron.

"Hi," she greeted, forcedly cheerful. "My name is Himeka, and I'll be your waitress today. Would you like something to drink?"

"Hot black tea for us both," Kakashi said, picking up a menu and browsing. Sakura did the same.

"Alright!" she said brightly, and left. She was back in a few minutes, balancing a teapot and two cups. She filled them deftly and set the pot between them. Her smile still didn't quite reach her eyes. "You guys ready to order?" She was holding a pad and poised pen, glancing expectantly between Sakura and Kakashi.

They ordered – fish filets with rice and vegetables – Himeka took their menus and they were alone again.

Silence unnerved Sakura, a side effect of too much time around Naruto, chatty co-workers, and comatose patients, so she began to talk. Mostly it was about her work, and the poison and antidote research and development department she was going to be joining. When she ran out of things to tell him that didn't include classified information, she told him about the little house she'd just bought.

"It's pretty rundown, but it's nothing some time won't fix," Sakura explained. "The whole bathroom needs to be gutted and redone, so that'll be my first project, I think. Oh! Would you like to help me paint, when it comes around?" she asked excitedly, really getting into the swing with thoughts of her home.

"Sure," Kakashi promised vaguely. He probably didn't even know what he'd just agreed to.

She continued in that bright, questioning tone, "My dog just died."

"Uh-huh," he said blankly.

"Squirrels are going to take over the world."

A vague nod.

"I'm not wearing any underwear."

"Is that so?" he asked, still in that distant voice. She thought she could detect a tiny smirk.

Sakura was spared having to respond by the arrival of their food.

"Anything else?" Himeka chirped.

"No, thank you," Kakashi told her. She left.

Sakura began to shovel food into her mouth at an alarming rate. Her eyes watered as her tongue and throat seared. Kakashi watched with no little amusement. The lukewarm tea in her cup barely helped.

Swallowing the last of it, Sakura coughed into her elbow and closed her eyes to focus chakra to the blistered areas.

She had no sooner picked up her chopsticks again than Kakashi said, "So, this no underwear business. Can I see?"

Sakura tried to kick him under the table. He moved, her toes slammed into the booth with a yelp, and her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Satisfied?" she demanded angrily.

Kakashi's gaze raked over her. "Not yet," he said, voice low.

Sakura flushed red and didn't speak again for a while. Lunch was eaten quickly, in semi-awkward silence interrupted by Himeka only twice – once to refill their teapot and then to drop off their check.

It came as no real surprise to Sakura when Kakashi claimed to have misplaced his wallet and she had to pay. Himeka eyed Kakashi disapprovingly but sent them off with a cherry smile and "Stay warm, have a nice day!"

Her attempts at small talk fell flat, even to her own ears, due to the fluttery feeling in her gut. They'd done this so many times she'd lost track, and yet the prospect of Kakashi inside her, seeing, touching, tasting her turned her into a nervous schoolgirl. It was always different, always exciting.

When Sakura tried to go to the door, Kakashi grabbed her shoulders and steered her to the wall under her office window. Sighing, Sakura molded her chakra through her mittens and boots and began to climb, Kakashi following. Her hands trembled as she dug her fingers into the crack to open the window. She stepped inside, Kakashi close after.

The door was wide open, a new stack of folders on her desk. Ignoring them, she turned to him anxiously, watching his shoulders and back closely while he latched the window. The flutters grew stronger her belly as he pivoted slowly to look at her. His mask had come down, and his eye was smoldering, taking her in slowly.

"Go close the door and lock it." His voice was rough.

Sakura hurried to the door to obey, quivering finely all over. While she was there, she shed her winter gear.

"Now come back here," he ordered. Her legs carried her without her realizing, and then the world stopped. His lips were warm and salty from his meal, but his tongue tasted like tea when it pressed intimately against hers. He was stroking her hips, directing her to sit on her desk.

Once Sakura was seated, he slipped his hands under her blouse. The sensation of Kakashi's calloused fingertips contrasted sharply with the smoothness of leather and earned him a ragged gasp. She loved it when he kept his gloves on.

Her panties were damp, and she could feel Kakashi's erection in her lap. He ground against her, groaning.

Then suddenly his mouth was gone from hers and she was being spun around to face the door.

"Bend over, Sakura," he rasped, splaying his fingers across her toned stomach, the other pressing on her back. His dick was at her ass now. Her forearms smacked the desktop at the same moment that Kakashi shoved his hand under her skirt and tore her underwear off her. She heard the sound it made as one side ripped.

Sakura tried to stand up to protest, but Kakashi's hard chest kept her pinned. "Hey!"

"You'll live," he growled, rocking into her center. "You little tease, lying about not wearing panties…" He squeezed her hips briefly before they left her. Sakura was in too much of a daze to think where they could go, until she felt his naked cock teasing her slit.

Without preamble, Kakashi filled her in one violent shove. Sakura jerked, her hair swinging wildly while he pulled out and slammed back in.

Pleasure zinged through Sakura's whole body, coursing from the place where Kakashi crashed against her, making her desk shake with every thrust. She moaned loudly, echoed by Kakashi's deep groan.

The only sounds in the room were their hips meeting, their noises of pleasure, and the rattling of the desk, and all the while the friction between them sent sparks across Sakura's vision.

Each movement, every press of his finger to her clit sent her higher, coloring the sparks. Coils wound tighter, egged on by Kakashi's heavy breaths and enticing groans.

It was his finger tenderly brushing her shoulder that sent Sakura over the edge. The coils snapped and her vision went white. Her sense hung around long enough to remind her to muffle her cries in her arm. When she came back to herself, Kakashi had already finished and was contentedly kissing her shoulder, neck, and hairline.

She shivered lightly at the smooth friction of his spent cock leaving her. Too boneless to hold her own weight at the moment, she spun clumsily, attempting to fix her skirt, and sat on the edge of her desk.

Sakura was treated to the sight of Kakashi's abs when his shirts rode up while he straightened his clothing. She smiled like a cat that'd gotten the cream and was plotting the canary's demise. He noticed.

"What?" His tone was edgy.

Sakura smiled, long and lazy, with a hint of sultriness in her green eyes, still hazy from an _amazing_ orgasm.

"What?" Kakashi demanded again, downright wary now.

"I'm going to be panty-less _all_ afternoon now," she said, her voice just barely scratchy from her sounds of pleasure. "I'm going to be walking around with your come on my thighs for the rest of the night and I'm going to be seeing patients that way." She laughed, huskily, and hummed, her eyes hooded.

Her mouth was occupied brusquely, but she tilted her head back, looking at the clock. "Sorry, lunch is over," she cooed teasingly.

Kakashi growled and tweaked her nipples at the same moment he blew on her neck. Arousal made a reappearance, heating her blood welcomingly.

Sakura knew he'd pitched his voice deliberately when he told her, "Come to me when your shift is over." Need flared sharply as he gave her pulse point a fierce suck. A cold breeze let her know he'd gone before she could focus again.

It would be a long, _long_ night.


	4. five six pick up sticks, or part III

Sorry this has taken so long, peeps! Hopefully, I'll be able to get out the next part within the next couple days, since it won't be very long. Enjoy, and remember, I don't own Naruto! If I did, then it'd have much more Kakashi/Sakura smexing, courtesy of Nims, to whom I belong. Oh, and yeah, I'm not making any money off this either. I'm still broke. *sadface* Comments and constructive criticism are, as ever, welcome. Flames (not that you awesome people flame me) will be used to warm my hands since it's so damn cold here. (Seriously, Mother Nature, it's fucking May. GET WARM.)

* * *

_five six pick up sticks_

He should have known better than to expect anything else by now. It had happened plenty of times over the course of his life, after all. He should have been used to it. But he wasn't.

As much as he hated people making a fuss over it, Kakashi wouldn't have minded _someone_ wishing him a happy birthday. Vaguely, he wondered why he was surprised. He did, after all, try to keep other people from finding out most of the time.

After spending much of the day in the administration building, chatting lightly with civilian receptionists and the occasional kunoichi alike, he'd finally retreated to his favorite training grounds - Field Three, where, once upon a lifetime ago, he'd trained with Minato-sensei and, later, Obito and Rin. Years after that, he'd brought Team 7 here. He smiled wistfully at the memory of a squalling orange and yellow blob dangling from one of the posts, bellowing at him.

Now was not the time to part the mist he kept firmly on Memory Lane, but he had to do something to occupy his mind or he'd just get depressed and try to drown in alcohol tonight.

Kakashi quickly ruled out meditation. He wouldn't have been able to empty his mind - he was too restless. There were no new ninjutsu he wanted to try out. It would have to be physical activity. Sparring would be best, but a partner he didn't have, and he didn't want to have to put up with anyone's chatter anyway. He could always summon a bunshin, but why would he want to fight a thing that knew his every move and could counter his every tactic?

He fell into tai chi forms, the slow, fluid movements working his body and relaxing his mind at the same time. His eyes closed and his mind followed the flow of his limbs, without wandering elsewhere.

Kakashi heard her deliberately crack a twig underfoot as she approached but he didn't open his eyes or stop the forms. There was a bit of shuffling near the middle post and then she was standing beside him.

"Mind if I join you, senpai?" Sakura asked softly. She seemed to take his silence for an affirmative because he felt her fall into his pattern effortlessly. "I didn't know you practiced tai chi," she added, still in that quiet tone. "Most shinobi don't. They don't see the point because it's not really an offensive or defensive form-"

A twinge of irritation ran through him. "Do you always talk this much when you meditate?" he asked snappishly. He felt bad almost immediately but he refused to show it. It was stupid and childish and so incredibly immature, but he couldn't help but be hurt that she hadn't remembered it was his birthday, even though she probably didn't even _know_ it was his birthday...

The thoughts circled around his brain for a few moments until he realised Sakura had stopped moving. He opened his eyes. She was looking at him, wearing an expression that was both reproachful and sad.

"No," Sakura answered slowly. "I came to spend time with you and wish you a happy birthday because everyone else forgot. I even brought you a present." She started toward her belongings near the post. Rummaging through it, she pulled out a small, brightly colored object and set it on top of the post.

Then she slung the bag over her shoulder, said with forced cheer, "Happy birthday," and began walking toward the gate. She hadn't seemed angry at all - just disappointed and maybe hurt.

Utterly dumbfounded, Kakashi stared at the cheery yellow-and-orange box for a long moment. Then, as if in a trance, he pulled himself out of his stance and moved to the post. It was like he was watching someone else's hand reach for the gift, or like someone else was in control of his arm. He felt numb - disconnected - but he couldn't have said why.

When he brushed against it, all sensation flooded back: the paper, cool and smooth beneath his fingertips, birds chirping, squirrels chattering, the breeze light against his uncovered skin. The world snapped into focus and before he knew where he was going, he was there.

Sakura's expression was startled. She took a hasty, stumbling step backward to avoid walking into him. Her gaze flicked briefly from his face to the unopened package he was grasping in his hand.

"Sakura," he breathed, reaching out to cup her cheek gently. Her hand rose to cover his as her head tilted to regard him with her liquid green eyes. Her fingers were warm against his bare skin, her palm warm through his glove.

"You're supposed to open it," she whispered.

"I know."

But he was afraid to. He was afraid of this moment, he realised. It was all wrong for the relationship he had with this woman. It was...tender, intimate.

Like they were in love.

And as much as the moment - the gentleness of his hand on her cheek, the tenderness of hers on top of his, the softness he could see in Sakura's face - frightened him, breaking it scared him more. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

Then Sakura's focus slid past his covered face to behind him and he finally noticed how close they were to the gate. People were walking past on the street outside, though none seemed to have noticed this exchange. Her grip slid down to his wrist and she lowered his hand back down to the box she was lifting with his other wrist.

"Open it," she said softly, putting his hand on the gift and retreating another half-step to give him space.

The charged moment wasn't broken, exactly, but put on a sort of hold. Confusion still fluttered around in his brain, questions floating on the tip of his tongue, but they could wait.

Carefully, he slit the tape on one end of the box, then on the other end, one by one until all the paper was free and still completely whole. He lifted it away and folded it carefully before putting it in his hip pouch.

Sakura watched him closely.

He held an oak box, lacquered clear. Other than on the top, where the craftsman had carved 'Love,' the box was undecorated. When he lifted away the lid, he found something that knocked the breath right out of his lungs.

It was full of photos. Some of them were so old they were black and white turning into sepia, some of the color ones were faded, and some were brand new - he'd never seen them before.

The oldest one was of his parents, standing outside a small, tidy house that he vaguely recognised as the one his father had pointed out to him as a child as belonging to his maternal grandparents. They were teenagers, fifteen or sixteen at most, holding hands through the distance between their bodies. They both looked nervous and excited. On the back of the photo, someone had written the date and _'Sakumo and Aya, about to embark upon their first outing.'_

"I got most of them from Tsunade-shishou, but your other friends gave me some, too," Sakura murmured.

His hands shook as he replaced the picture, grabbed up the thick stack underneath and shuffled through them rapidly.

A snapshot of his parents at a table in a greasy diner, smiling goofily at each other. A professional portrait of his parents in their wedding clothes. Jiraiya dancing with his mother at the reception. Tsunade dancing with his father. His parents dancing together, staring at each other tenderly.

His mother with a slight baby bump. An ultrasound. His father, arms wrapped around his mother but unable to close around her completely due to the fact that she was hugely pregnant. His mother, exhausted, in a hospital bed, with his shell-shocked-looking father in a chair beside her and holding a blue bundle.

A series of photos of him as an ugly, squishy infant, by himself or being held by others. The squishy, ugly infant turning into a toddler, smiling, laughing, hugging, or kissing his mother or father. Him as a small child, standing outside the Academy.

Then there was a very distinctive time-skip - where before he'd been a child, open-faced, happy, and mask-less, now he was a teenager, wary, masked and closed-off. There were several snapshots of Minato-sensei, Obito, and Rin, together or apart. Some of those photos included him, but not all. He saw a photo of Minato-sensei with his arms around a heavily pregnant Kushina's shoulders, his face buried in her long red hair.

After those were pictures of Genma, Shizune, Asuma, Kurenai, Gai, Raidou, and everyone else he'd ever called so much as 'acquaintance,' in a variety of settings - streets, homes, restaurants, bars, woods, rocky hills, deserts, rainforests. In some, some of the people were obviously coupled up and romantic. These shots spanned years, covering his entire young adult life.

Photos of his students, when they'd been his students, of them growing up - though Sasuke was absent in most of them - all the way up to recent days, like the ones of the trip he'd been conned into to Shinju's dance club last week, and from a few days ago when Asuma and Kurenai's daughter had climbed into his lap and fallen asleep there.

Kakashi replaced the pictures in the box and put the lid on it quickly. He looked up to see Sakura was still watching, though her expression was now blank. He was still lost for words.

"Do you like it?" Sakura asked. There was no inflection in her tone, but Kakashi knew she was only trying to hide her uncertainty at his reaction.

It was a box full of memories, of people who had cared about him, and as hard as she'd tried to make all of them good ones, they still brought a bittersweetness to his thoughts. Even so, this was perhaps the most thoughtful, touching gift anyone had ever given him.

"Yes, Sakura," he said, voice low. "Yes. I like it very much."

She smiled slowly, and Kakashi found himself smiling back and shuffling his feet awkwardly. He kept his eyes locked on hers as he lifted a hand to her cheek.

Her smiled turned strained and her eyes darkened with confusion. Unconsciously, he leaned forward.

"Kakashi," Sakura whispered.

"Mm?" he hummed, not really paying attention. He intended to thank her for her thoughtful gift, and his memory was full of her, of every encounter he'd ever had with her since the night in the alley when she was seventeen and drunk.

The lust had been powerful then, just as it was now, but now there was something else there too.

"Kakashi," she said again, looking torn as she pressed herself into his touch. "What are we? What...what is this?"

He ripped his mask down. "I don't know," he mumbled, swooping in to touch his mouth to hers with just enough pressure to feel hers give. He'd kissed her before, countless times in countless ways all over her body - but this time was different.

There was lust and wild passion now, as ever, and there had always been some measure of tenderness, because Sakura was important to him and he'd never wanted to hurt her. But this tenderness was something altogether different. This tenderness was a gentleness welling in his chest, making him want to worship her, to revel in her as he never had before.

He was terrified as he broke apart the first time to take in air. Sakura kept her eyes closed, but her mouth trembled. It was a sure sign of her uncertainty.

"Sakura," he breathed, reaching out to pull her closer, pull her into his chest and hold her in his arms as he slowly kissed her again. Kakashi's hands tightened on her hips and he pushed his gently against her.

"Not-" she gasped against his lips. "Not here. We're in full view of the street."

Trying not to stop touching her as he slid his palm to her hand, he drew away, gently but insistently taking her with him as he retreated further into the wooded area of the training grounds. Once they were sufficiently covered, Kakashi wasted no time in returning her to his embrace.

He was content just to touch her, to feel her in his arms, and that contentedness confused him. Neither of them had ever mentioned exclusivity - he'd simply assumed she was as fine with their friends-with-benefits arrangement as he was. They never talked about what they were to each other, in fact.

Thought left him when she broke away from his mouth to kiss down his chin and throat in a way that had never, ever failed to make him shiver. But just as he was, she seemed to be in no hurry whatsoever, in spite of the relative lack of privacy in their little wooded hiding spot, as she toyed with the hem of his shirt for a moment. Kakashi tipped her chin back up to taste her lips again, and for a long time, they just stood there kissing, slow and soft and tender, and stroking each other's bodies gently.

When Kakashi finally unzipped her shirt, he kissed every inch of skin exposed as he removed it from her shoulders - then her arms, her wrists, her hands, her fingers. He stroked her soft back and touched his mouth to her breasts as he bared them.

For all the heat boiling in his blood, he didn't _want_ to rush. His body was all but demanding he _get her naked_ already, but his brain refused to comply with this sense of urgency. He was glad for that. Things were changing, and it bewildered him in the best way.

At the back of his mind, he knew they'd have to talk after this, but Sakura was removing his shirt and undershirt and he was dipping his hands under shorts and panties and silly things like talking ceased to matter. They slid off her legs and she stepped delicately out of them.

He stopped a moment to admire the sight Sakura's nude body presented. She was glorious, beautiful, and he smiled until his gaze returned to her face and he saw the uncertainty there.

He pulled her against him again, nuzzling her hair as he directed them down to the ground. Kneeling over Sakura meant Kakashi got to see every bit of her - including how her face contorted into pain.

"Ow," she muttered, wiggling, and shoved a hand under her back. She rummaged for a second, arching her body against his, and came up with a short, gnarled stick. She tossed it aside with a chuckle.

He returned to her; she slid her arms around his back, splaying her hands there, and Kakashi settled himself between her thighs. He felt her fingers trail down until they snagged on the top of his pants.

He lightly ground his erection against her naked, sensitive center, which made the scent of her arousal flare and her hips roll in an open invitation. Between the two of them, his pants were short work.

It was the space of a breath before his bare tip was pushing inside her. It was slow, as everything since he'd first kissed her had been, and he thrust shallowly into her, going deeper in degrees. Sakura shifted restlessly beneath him, but did not cry out or ask for more.

When Kakashi was finally as far inside her as he could go, he just stilled, enjoying her hot, wet tightness. They were both trembling, covered in sweat, and panting.

"Move," Sakura whimpered a few moments later, rocking her hips. Kakashi started a leisurely rhythm, stroking his length deeply inside.

He kept his eyes open, watching Sakura's expressions carefully, almost greedily, in a way he never had before. The way her eyes squeezed shut and her lips pursed as he pushed against her - how her mouth rounded as he rolled his hips a certain way - entranced him.

He didn't kiss her, instead letting her sounds wash over him - her gaspy little breaths, almost of protest, as he withdrew each time; her sharper, higher-pitched whines of encouragement as he began to surge against her with more force - and they all spiraled his desire higher.

He whispered to her, between his own broken-off groans and desperate pants, nonsensical phrases about how beautiful he was and how he didn't want to stop touching her, and between "I love how soft your skin is" and "The scent of your shampoo drives me crazy," she came with a wild cry. Her walls clamping around him broke his rhythm after only another handful of thrusts he was losing himself, buried within her, a strangled groan tearing from his chest.

He nearly collapsed on top her, boneless after his orgasm. Sakura chuckled weakly, nosing his chest as he nosed her ear. "That was...different," she mumbled.

He remained silent, turning over a thought in his head. For her part, Sakura remained silent below him. They remained that way for a long time, connected but unmoving and silent.

At long last, Kakashi sighed, reaching a decision, and eased out of her. Before he sat up to grab for his pants, he kissed her, lingering and tender.

"Would you like to have dinner at my place?" he asked simply, as the kiss broke.

Surprise flashed across her face for a split second before she smiled. "Sure," she said.

He offered his hand to help her up and they dressed slowly, almost reluctantly. As they began to leave the training field, he took her hand again.

She held it all the way to his apartment.


	5. dinner, or interlude iii

If you recognize it, I probably don't own it. / / I have no real excuses for making you lovely readers wait over two years. It started off as procrastination and then just became outright laziness and I'm sorry. I'm trying to kick my butt back into gear and get this one finished for you guys.

* * *

What, precisely, Kakashi had been thinking when he'd invited Sakura back to apartment for dinner was a mystery. He just thanked his lucky stars it was tidy.

The food, however, was an issue. He hadn't gone grocery shopping in a while and all his produce was close to being rotten because, more often than not, he ate out - or he just didn't eat.

Sakura stopped without warning, jerking his arm - and him - a halt. He turned to her inquisitively.

"What's the matter?" he asked gently.

She hesitated for just a moment before squeezing his hand and looking up at him. "Do you mind if we make a quick stop before we go to your apartment?"

Kakashi shook his head and said, "No. I was actually going to ask you the same thing. All the food in my kitchen is bad."

Sakura laughed and tugged his hand and that strange tenderness was back in his chest, constricting his breathing and making his heart beat faster. He quietly followed her into the heart of downtown, to a quaint teashop where Ino sat wearing a scowl.

"Emergency cancellation, Ino," Sakura said. "Pressing business. I'll explain later." She leaned down and kissed the blonde's cheek. "Go home. I'm sure Shinju misses you."

Ino glanced between Kakashi and Sakura and he saw the way her eyes lingered on their joined hands. She smiled widely and Kakashi was led outside into the dusk of the Konoha streets.

"What should we get?" he murmured to her.

"Anything is fine by me," she answered. "I'm starving."

He agreed wholeheartedly. He'd barely eaten anything that day. So he took the lead again and brought her to a little diner just down the block from his apartment complex.

His palm was sweating inside his glove and he wanted to turn and kiss Sakura but he refrained as they placed their orders and paid. She had to carry the bag with their supper - Kakashi's hands were full.

He hated that he had to drop her hand to root around in his pockets for his key. He missed the warmth and the innocence of the intimacy.

"I love your apartment," Sakura said once the door was open. She said it every time she visited him here. It was usually about the only thing either of them said fully clothed when she visited him here.

Kakashi wasn't quite sure how to respond this time, though, so he fidgeted uncomfortably, glancing at her where she was hovering in the entrance and muttered, "Thanks. Kitchen's this way."

He quickly set them up for dinner after vanishing briefly into his bedroom to deposit the gift on his dresser. Sakura opted to settle on the sofa. No sooner had he handed over her plate and sat on the other end than she spoke.

"Kakashi," she began, hesitant and soft like she was talking to a cornered animal. "Back there, in the woods, what was that?" She put her plate on the coffee table.

It would be so easy to pretend like he didn't know what she was talking about. He could lie and say it was nothing and that she was imagining things - but she would never buy that. So he told her the truth: "I don't know."

Sakura was silent for a while, not looking at him. Finally, she said, "I don't know, either. But I do know...something just changed. Something huge. And it scares me a little."

Kakashi began to pick at his food, hoping to give himself a bit of time to come up with an answer. The truth was that he was scared, too.

"Sakura," he finally said, "I care about you. A lot. But I'm horrible at relationships..."

"I'm not asking for one!" she interjected. "I just don't know where we go from here."

"Me, either," he admitted with a laugh.

Sakura burst into awkward giggles, seeming relieved. "Well, that cleared up exactly nothing," she replied. "But that's alright. For now." She picked up her plate and took a bite.

Kakashi hummed around his mouthful of food and smiled.

Later, they would talk and figure out whatever it was that had changed, and they would adapt to those changes accordingly. For now, they ate.


End file.
